


Out Of Reach

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Established poly, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 02:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13021830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Stay, Hux tells him.





	Out Of Reach

The binders around his wrists are a symbol, only. It would take a simple flick of a catch with his mind to release them, but then he would incur disapproval.

That’s why he can’t remove them. In a way, it hurts because simply saying _stay_ would be as effective. It’s the desire Hux has to keep him still that locks his hands into fists above his head, nothing more. A flimsi copy of his will, curled around his wrists like a heavy reminder.

He is not to move.

One leg bounces, the knee pulling the rest of his limb up and down behind it, making the bed shake slightly. Only slightly, because the real tremors come from the beautiful couple above him, fucking rough and ready. 

Hux does everything by design, even his lack of it. His seemingly brutal, uncontrolled thrusts into their lover are considered. His fat cock angled to press into her walls and stretch her wider, the hands on her shoulders shoving her head down and her ass up for the rutting.

Beneath the little thatch of hair, he can see her pink lips glisten from her own excitement, and the leaked dribbles from Hux’s own. The sound of wet skin together, and his thighs meeting her firm ass… his fingers curl up as he watches the show right above his head. He can’t _move_ , can’t crane up and nose her lips wider to let his tongue draw around her parted flesh. He can’t lap at her clit, or lick the salt from Hux’s cock as it pulls out to push back in again. He can’t give them any pleasure, other than the visceral, ethereal thrill they get from his inaction. He longs to rise up, and his neck aches from the wanting of it.

Then there’s the mouth on his cock. Both of them suck differently: Hux with brutal efficiency and finesse, Phasma with the exploration of a part she lacks. Right now, she’s rocked by the rhythm of Hux’s pounding, and Kylo feels his shaft slide past her tight lips and threaten to breach her throat. He likes to receive, but he prefers to _give_ , and it’s one extra insult to add to the injury.

Not until you come for her. That’s what he’d said. Not until you feed our Captain. 

Stuffed at both ends, her pelvis tilting to counter the thrusts, giving him a first hand show of how close she is to coming. The wiggle before Hux’s hands clamp her too tight to do more, the vibrations of her enjoyment around his dick…

He hates how well Hux knows them both. Hates how everything about this is perfect.

Damn him. Damn him, and his beautiful cock, and even more beautiful mind.

Kylo can be a bitch, too. He holds out as long as possible, wondering if Hux will lose the right not to climax before him, or if Kylo himself will win.

Not that losing hurts at all.


End file.
